


Between His Teeth

by teacupsandtime



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Knifeplay, M/M, Murder Husbands, loudly implied cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime
Summary: Will ruins Hannibal's dinner and then makes it up to him.





	Between His Teeth

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nice Day for a Red Wedding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012479) by [xzombiexkittenx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xzombiexkittenx/pseuds/xzombiexkittenx). 



“You are right on time.”

Will smiled and stepped beyond the door and into the foyer. He turned his head to watch Hannibal close it and return to his side.

“You didn’t have to.”

Will looked down at the dark bottle in his hands.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Probably shouldn’t have anyway considering I really have no idea what I was looking for but hopefully this will be a good-”

His eyes moved to the label.

“ _Red_.”

Taking the wine from him, Hannibal leaned in and kissed him softly on the mouth. The warmth he’d felt building in his stomach on the drive over rushed up into his chest. Hannibal’s mouth was always so soft.

Deceiving.

Will liked it when he used his teeth.

“Mmm, you’re warm.”

Hannibal grinned and pulled back, clasping a snowflake trapped in Will’s hair between his fingertips.

“I must go back and check on dinner,” he said. “Please, hang your coat up and join me.”

Will watched him turn on his heels and leave the room, spine fully upright as he glided back towards the kitchen, the soles of his shoes clicking on the floor. He shrugged himself out of his coat and hung it on the rack by the door, toed off his shoes and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows before following.

Hannibal was facing the stove, tying an immaculate white apron around his waist. The older man was not the type to dress down when he got home from work and still donned a pair of dark grey slacks and waistcoat, pink dress shirt and paisley tie; his jacket - at least - had undoubtedly been stored back in its proper place in the closet upstairs.

Not a single hair was out of place on his head.

Will had pictured him looking exactly like this on the drive over: pristine and collected. He’d gripped the steering wheel as he thought about disarranging his perfect image, wiping it away like the colored sand of a meticulously crafted mandala.

“Smells good,” Will said as he came up behind him, fingers at the bow at the small of Hannibal’s back.

“Yes,” he said. “Beef rolls with onion and marjoram, served with green beans in a veal bone sauce.”

Will pressed into his shoulder and inhaled, catching the faint lemon and sandalwood scent of Hannibal’s soap.

“I wasn’t talking about dinner.”

The older man paid no mind and continued lightly stirring the sauce in front of him, casting looks to the meat sizzling in the pan on the opposite burner. Will pressed his chest against his back and gripped lightly at his hips, his mouth finding the slope of Hannibal’s shoulder.

“So where’d you get the meat for tonight?”

Picking up a pair of metal tongs, Hannibal turned the rolls over. A loud sizzling filled the room.

“Three nights ago,” he answered. “A younger man who could not keep his opinions to himself at the opera.”

Will’s lips moved off his shoulders and up to his neck, teeth nipping at his earlobe.

“Will you take me sometime?” he whispered, his body half hard and pressing against Hannibal’s backside.

“Of course,” came the answer. “But please, let me focus now.”

Will smiled.

“Focus? Am I distracting you?”

Will pulled his hands off Hannibal’s hips and slipped them under his apron, fingers grazing over his crotch. Despite his best intentions, Hannibal sighed and pushed back against him slightly. Will’s mouth dropped to his shoulder blade, his teeth leaving a wet imprint as he bit down gently.

“Will.”

A gentle warning.

Will puffed out a careful laugh and rocked his hips slightly, his hands moving up and under Hannibal’s arms, fingers at the buttons of his waistcoat. He undid the first two before one of Hannibal’s hands came to rest on top of his, stopping his movement and pinning him against his chest.

“William,” his voice was even and stern. “Do you wish to have dinner tonight?”

Will tried to pull his hand free but Hannibal’s grip was firm.

“I am hungry,” he answered. “Just not for that.”

Hannibal sighed and let his hand go, picking the large spoon back up and stirring the simmering sauce. 

“I planned this dinner tonight,” he said. “Curated the ingredients with great care, catered specifically to your palette. This is terribly ungrateful of you, Will.” 

Will’s cock was pressed against the front of his pants, obscenely pushing against Hannibal as well; he could feel sweat building under his shirt from the heat of Hannibal’s body and the blue flames in front of them. His hands journeyed back to the bow of Hannibal’s apron, unknotting it now and letting the white strings fall.

There was a clang as the utensil in Hannibal’s hand was tossed on the counter next to the stove, a rush of air as he spun around. One moment Will was pressed against Hannibal’s back and the next he found his own pushed against the counter. Faster than he could follow, Hannibal had both his hands trapped in one of his behind his back and pinned against the marble. In his other was a small paring knife Will hadn’t seen him grab.

“You seem intent on riling me,” he said, bringing the knife up to lightly press against the side of Will’s neck.

Will rocked his shoulders, attempting to dislodge Hannibal’s grip on his wrists behind his back. His efforts got him nothing but a sharp pull downwards. The breath came harder from between his lips, he felt the cold touch of the blade against his flushed skin.

He pressed himself against it.

The features of Hannibal’s face softened, as did his grip on Will’s wrists as he watched the younger man press his neck into the silver edge. Wincing slightly, Will turned his head and felt his skin split, a gentle warmth dripping down to stain the front of his shirt. He pulled his slick hands free of Hannibal’s grip and pushed them flat against his chest, bunching his shirt in his fists and pulling as he drew their mouths together. 

Hannibal’s tongue pushed between his lips as Will heard the knife drop to the counter behind him. He held his breath, fingers tangling in Hannibal’s hair, as he felt hands come under his thighs and lift him up to bring him seated on the marble. Hannibal’s mouth pulled away from his own and dropped to his neck to lick at the blood that was beading there, taking it inside him with hot, long strokes.

Will moaned and dropped his hands to Hannibal’s belt, fumbling with the buckle before pulling it free from the loops of his slacks and letting it hit the floor. The older man was stepping out of his shoes, hair falling down into his face as Will undid the last of the buttons and pushed the waistcoat free. He reached for the knot in the silk at Hannibal’s throat but quickly abandoned the task at the urgent press of hands at his hips. Will lifted up as his pants and underwear were pulled free.

“Wait, wait,” he said as he pants were flung to the floor.

Hannibal paused. 

“My right pocket.”

Leaning down, Hannibal picked up the discarded garment and reached into the pockets until he found the small package of lubricant. He returned to him and grinned, pushing Will flat on his back with a firm hand to his chest and pulling one of his legs up and over his shoulder. He held the packet between his teeth, tearing it open, as he pulled the socks free of Will’s feet.

“You orchestrated sabotage.”

Will shuddered as a slick finger found him, carefully pushing inside and working him open. Hannibal pressed his teeth into the side of Will’s knee as he added another, Will’s foot flexing by his ear.

“Now,” he whined. “Come on.”

Will winced and Hannibal pulled himself free, undoing his pants and stepping out of them as they pooled around his ankles. He slicked his hands with the remainder of the small packet, stroking himself before grabbing Will’s leg again, lining up, and slowly pushing in. There was the familiar pinch of pain, dull and aching, before it was chased with an encompassing fullness.

The two men sighed into it.

They found their rhythm, Will’s body sliding down the counter as Hannibal pushed into him and forward as he pulled back. His leg fell from Hannibal’s shoulders, wrapping around his upper body and locking with the ankle of his other leg. As their pace increased, he flung his arms behind his head, hands grasping for purchase behind him and finding nothing but smooth stone. 

Hannibal’s hands came back to his wrists, pinning them in place.

His heart slammed against his chest as he arched into the body on top of him, turning his head as Hannibal found the drying blood at his neck again. The vice grip on his left wrist was released as Hannibal’s hand traveled down to his hip, holding him still as he came with a soft grunt. Will’s body tightened his as he felt himself flooded with warmth, Hannibal’s weight falling on him as he breathed harshly into his ear.

After a moment, Hannibal pushed himself back up, a hand reaching between them and around Will’s cock. The older man rocked his hips forward, pushing to stay inside as he pulled at the man under him. Will curled a fist into the hair at the back of Hannibal’s neck as he felt his orgasm rush from his cock and down his legs, his body tightening around Hannibal again and making the older man gasp.

They rested again for only a moment before the smell of burning meat pierced through the heavy musk of sex. Turning his head, Hannibal kissed Will’s forehead and pulled away, quickly turning off the burners as Will pushed himself off the counter and sank to the floor of the kitchen. He looked at Hannibal standing in front of the stove, naked and slick from the waist down, hair tousled.

He tilted his head up and watched as Hannibal walked back over and lowered himself onto the floor, back pressed into the cabinet.

“Ruined?” Will asked, shifting as he felt wetness escaping between his legs.

Hannibal ran a hand up through his hair and tugged down sharply, causing Will to fall back against him.

“Thoroughly.”

Will raised a hand to the side of his neck, pulling away and finding his fingers flaked with red and black.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

**

“Hello.”

“Hey, do you have plans tonight?’

“I do not.”

“Can I come over?’

“Of course. Would you like for me to make dinner?”

“Yes, but not without me.”

“Very well.”

“Okay, I’ll be over around 5. See ya.”

“Good bye, Will.”

**

At 4:50 Hannibal answered the doorbell and found Will in front of him with a small black bag. He was kissed swiftly in greeting before the younger man moved inside and set the bag on the floor as he removed his coat and scarf.

“In the mood for something specific?”

“You could say that. Come with me.” 

Hannibal followed Will into his kitchen and watched as he placed the black bag on the marble island. Opening it, he removed a white onion, a small bag of pinhead oatmeal, a container of finely diced meat, and a blood bag still wrapped in sterile packaging. Will arranged everything on the marble and stepped towards Hannibal who pieced it together. 

“Blood pudding.”

“Mmm hmm,” Will answered as he grabbed at Hannibal’s tie.

“Using your blood?”

Will leaned in and kissed him, feeling Hannibal’s hand come to rest at the side of his neck that bore a thin, still healing mark.

“ _Mmm_ _hmm_ ,” he repeated. “I told you I’d make it up to you.”

“This is very generous, Will.”

He kissed him again and then stepped back towards the ingredients.

“I know,” he agreed. “Consider it an early Christmas gift as well.”

Hannibal grinned and picked up the diced meat.

“Pork,” Will said. “I went to that shop you love downtown, dropped your name, and the owner was insistent that this was the finest they had. But you can swap it out with something from your basement if you’d like.”

Hannibal put the meat back on the counter.

“I wouldn’t think to sully your flavor with another,” he said. “This will do fine.”

“Well alright,” Will said as he picked up the bag. “Come bleed me.”

Hannibal motioned for him to sit in the plush chair in the corner of the kitchen while he left and returned with an IV stand and a medical kit. Will rolled up his sleeve as Hannibal set everything up and kneeled in front of him before snapping on a pair of gloves. 

Will’s eyes widened in amusement.

“Hannibal,” he said. “You were bare inside me not 48-hours ago. And you’re preparing to eat my blood.”

Hannibal looked up blankly at him for a moment before he peeled the gloves off.

“Force of habit.”

He picked up the butterfly catheter and pushed his fingertips against Will’s skin.

“Flex your arm, please.”

Will did as he was told and watched as Hannibal found what he was looking for, piercing his skin and vein before taping the catheter to his arm. He sat back on his heels and looked up at the man willingly bleeding in his kitchen.

“Thank you, Will.”

They waited, largely in silence, until the bag filled and Hannibal carefully pulled the needle from Will’s arm, pressing a kiss there as he did. He handed him a cotton swap to hold over the site as he stood, unhooking the bag and taking it with him. 

“When you stand please take care.”

Nodding, Will slowly came to his feet as Hannibal pulled out his pans, oils, and spices.

“May I help?”

Hannibal’s eyes looked so warm.

“If you’d like,” he said. “Though you’ve already done more than enough.”

Will smirked and grabbed a knife from the block, reaching for the onion to start dicing it. They worked together, Hannibal keeping a vigilant eye on him. Water boiled, oil sizzled, and meat mixed with herbs. Will watched Hannibal open the bag and handle it as if it were the most precious thing he owned, pouring it carefully in a large bowl and stirring everything together.

They divided the mixture into two loaf pans and let it bake and cool while Hannibal entertained Will on the harpsichord while Will drank scotch and pretended that he noticed the changes Hannibal had made in his composition.

Hannibal set the table and guided Will to sit before he vanished into the kitchen and returned with the pudding and some simply prepared mashed potatoes. He placed a plate in front of Will and moved to sit opposite him. Will looked down, seeing the dish made of his own body, and back up at Hannibal who had delicately cut into it and was holding it to his nose. He parted his lips and moved it into his mouth, his eyes closing as he concentrated on the flavor. 

He swallowed slowly, under Will’s gaze, and smiled. 

“Exquisite.”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea from this story came directly from [Nice Day for a Red Wedding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012479) by [xzombiexkittenx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xzombiexkittenx/pseuds/xzombiexkittenx).
> 
> This was written with gracious permission. <3
> 
> You can also now find me on Tumblr: [Between His Teeth](https://betweenhisteeth.tumblr.com) .
> 
> Needless to say I really, really love the title of this one ;)


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